


Carry on

by thecookiemomma



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Gen, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-29
Updated: 2011-03-29
Packaged: 2017-10-17 08:49:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/175072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecookiemomma/pseuds/thecookiemomma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been a year since Jack's death, and his son Steve is pondering how much has changed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Carry on

**Author's Note:**

> I was singing this song to my son, because he was struggling with something, and it was making him cry. I have been watching Five-Oh and reading fanfic. So, my mind heard that song, and thought, dang. That sounds a lot like Steve. So, this is the result. It turned out a bit different than I expected, but that's par for the course. Also, if you're a S/D shipper, don't worry, it can be shippy if you look at it sideways and squint just right. (I am a shipper, incidentally, but this didn't want to get more blatant than it did). [Here's](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pw6_VXPwm6U) the video for reference. Enjoy.

It had been a year since his father's death, and Steve was no closer to catching the real killer. True, he'd gotten Hesse locked up behind bars, but he was a middle man. A lucky bastard who used Jack McGarrett to further his own devious purposes and then move on. No. The real killer was Wo Fat, the smug fucker. And Steve would get him. No, he corrected himself. Five-Oh would get him. Together.

Steve sat out on the lanai nursing a longboard and musing about how far he'd come in the last year. He'd become the head of a team – something he'd always promised himself he'd avoid, had the craziest partner on the island – nevermind that the huge goof thought the same of him, and had a small, tight ohana with his partner, co-workers, Mary, Cath, and hell, even Kamekona. If he wanted to stretch it, he could include Grace, Rachel and … possibly even 'Stepstan'. The thought of what the man's face would do if he mentioned it to him made him snort in amusement before he took another pull of beer.

Danno. He thought about his brother-in-arms. His partner. The Mouth. Seriously. That man even muttered in his sleep. They'd had a couple “stakeouts” (he called them “recon”, of course) where Danno fell asleep for a while, and the man could seriously both snore and sleep-talk. The memories made him grin widely. He shifted so that he could drag a bare toe through the sand.

Chin was like the strong backbone to their little family. If he and Danno were the front, the crazy couple that everybody knew and either ran toward or far away from, Chin Ho Kelly was the solid Uncle who always had a wise word if you took the time to listen. Except in Chin's case, the man didn't even have to say the words. It was plain in his expressions.

Kono was definitely the little sister. She was young, she was green, but she always brought a fresh view to the situation. Like that thing with the texting. She'd sent him a copy of what Danno had been intending to send, and he'd leaned back in his seat and laughed so hard that the man himself had come into the room glaring at him, and ranting about whether Steve thought him doing the paperwork was funny, and if he did he could damn well do the shit himself – needless to say, he corralled his amusement quickly. For days, though, Steve could look at Kono, grin, and they'd both start chuckling. It made him miss what he could've had with Mary Ann, if they'd not have been so stubborn.

Or in danger. Steve sighed, his thoughts drawn back to the importance of the day. He wasn't sure why he was alone tonight. He'd been fairly certain that Danno or Chin would've been over here in his face, one drawing his ire – or at least his attention – by streams of words carefully crafted around the pain; the other sitting still and silent, offering a completely different kind of comfort. Maybe they felt he needed to be alone, or maybe they'd forgotten entirely. _That_ thought depressed him. He sighed. _Fuckitall._ He set his beer down, stood up swiftly, and headed into the garage to pull out a case. He hadn't played this guitar in years. He'd picked up a few others around to keep up his skills – he never knew when it would help in a role, but he hadn't played _this_ one for years. His mother had bought it for him. That thought made the tears come. Slowly, one at a time, dropping down his face like the water he shook from his hair every morning, and just as salty. He blinked the tears back, and carried the case back out to the lanai, setting it down and popping it open.

He pulled the simple instrument out and started to tune it. He didn't notice the car lights coming toward the house, nor the car doors slamming shut, nor Danno's distinctive Jersey twang ranting something about locks and idiots.

“Steven?” He looked up, surprised to see his team there, complete with more beer and snacks. “Steven. There you are, you idiot. I was just telling Chin. You need to lock the damn door, you stupid fool. If you don't lock the door, the big bad guys can't come in and steal – ” At a pointed look from Chin, Danno stopped his ranting, and plopped down into the beach chair. “I worry about you, you Ninja Asshole. SuperSEALs aren't completely immortal, you know? I mean, just yesterday you got hit with that ….” Steve let the familiar rants wash over him, looking up gratefully at Chin and Kono who had moved in closer after Danno had strode in and sat down like it was his own place. And in a way, he was right. He belonged here, at Steve's side.

He strummed on the guitar, which shut Danno up. At least for a moment. He was about to start in on something else, probably “What? The SuperNinjaSEAL is also a skilled guitarist? Who would've guessed?” And gone on from there. So, Steve forestalled the next tirade by strumming familiar chords, not even really caring which ones, until they started shaping into a tune.

 _Fuckitall,_ he thought again, listening to the chords he was playing, and beginning to hum the melody. Danny kept quiet, thankfully, his attention on the music as well. He shrugged, the words pouring out before he could stop them.

 **  
Carry on my wayward son  
There'll be peace when you are done  
Lay your weary head to rest  
Don't you cry no more**

 **Once I rose above the noise and confusion  
Just to get a glimpse beyond this illusion  
I was soaring ever higher  
But I flew too high**

 **Though my eyes could see I still was a blind man  
Though my mind could think I still was a mad man  
I hear the voices when I'm dreaming  
I can hear them say**

 **Carry on my wayward son  
There'll be peace when you are done  
Lay your weary head to rest  
Don't you cry no more**

 **Masquerading as a man with a reason  
My charade is the event of the season  
And if I claim to be a wise man, well  
It surely means that I don't know**

 **On a stormy sea of moving emotion  
Tossed about I'm like a ship on the ocean  
I set a course for winds of fortune  
But I hear the voices say**

 **Carry on my wayward son  
There'll be peace when you are done  
Lay your weary head to rest  
Don't you cry no more  
No!**

 **Carry on, you will always remember  
Carry on, nothing equals the splendor  
The center lights around your vanity  
But surely heaven waits for you**

 **Carry on my wayward son  
There'll be peace when you are done  
Lay your weary head to rest  
Don't you cry (don't you cry no more) **

It just fit so well, of course, that he was crying by the end of it, appreciative of Danno's respectful silence, suddenly aware of Chin's hand on his shoulder, Kono seated at his feet. He did the only thing he could do, having lacked the family to have a proper wake this time last year. He hoisted his 'board, and toasted his father. “To Jack McGarret, tenacious son of a bitch, and a great cop.”

“To Jack.” Three voices echoed, and Steve was content. He replaced the guitar into its case and leaned back.

“So. There was this time when I was five that Dad decided I needed to learn to swim ...” He began, knowing his family would understand.

And by the looks of things, they really did.


End file.
